The Catalyst
by AozoraNoShita
Summary: Sassy! Rated T for excessive swearing. "Jesus Christ but this was ridiculous. Completely ridiculous, but still: his brother and his angel were actually interested in each other and had no intention of doing anything about it. Which meant that Dean was going to have to do something about it."


So, I've written Sassy from Sam's POV and Castiel's POV, and to round out the trio I decided to write one from Dean's. None of these stories are actually connected to each other, but feel free to read the other two anyway? Also if you can't tell I have a lot of Wincestiel feels.

This was written last minute for Sassy Week 2012 on tumblr.

* * *

**The Catalyst**

* * *

Dean had been good at science in high school. He could memorize all the terms and use all of the equations. He understood the concepts. He recalled thinking he'd remember this crap for his entire life because it had been _so easy_-but of course, over time, he forgot. Occasionally he remembered a term or two, but not what they mean. Osmosis, Boyle's Law, heat of vaporization, whatever.

One concept he _did _remember was equilibrium. Everyone talked about equilibrium. In a chemical reaction, in population genetics, in physical forces, in thermodynamics. The basic gist of it was that there was a balance. Forces cancelling each other out so that nothing really changed. And so on and so on and blah blah blah.

Genius scientist that he was, Dean Winchester had managed to achieve equilibrium in his own daily life. An equilibrium with him, his brother, and his angel. They were each a different kind of force, but they stabilized when they came together. It was a pretty nice setup, if he did say so himself.

Especially since today he had both of them running research, which meant he didn't have to so much as look at a book. Sam was at the library and Cas was clicking slowly and steadily away at the laptop. Dean, meanwhile, got the easy job: cleaning the weapons.

"So, Cas!" he said cheerfully.

Cas cut his eyes to him, stopping his typing. "Yes, Dean?" he answered. His tone was resigned. He sounded a lot like Sam, actually.

"Found anything yet?"

Cas sighed. "There isn't much to go on. All we know is that the curse is somehow related to how the statue was built, but there aren't any records of who made it, or how. I've never seen anything quite like..."

Dean tuned him out. He'd gotten the general idea of what Cas was saying, which was: _no I haven't found anything, but allow me to go off on a tangent only vaguely related to the here-and-now problem_.

Man, Cas and Sam really were similar. He snorted at the thought. Geeks.

"...and you are not even listening to what I'm saying, are you?"

"Sure I am," Dean lied easily. "I just missed that last part."

"I said," Cas groused, "only one of the Seven Wonders still exists, so-"

"Hold up." Something about that sentence had struck him.

Cas stopped speaking and gave him an exasperated look. Dean stared back at him, wondering why that had sounded so familiar, when he suddenly had an epiphany. A Eureka! moment.

"Dude. Sam told me that this morning," he said, amazed.

"Then you should already know it," Cas replied, frowning in disapproval.

"No, I mean he said those _exact _words! And he gave me that exact same bitch-face when I told him he was a boring fuck."

Cas just sighed and went back to the computer. Obviously he was not reaching the same conclusion that Dean just had, which was this: his brother and his angel were perfect for each other. Dean had to put the gun he was cleaning down; he leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms, blew out a deep breath, and closed his eyes to think.

How had he not noticed this before? He was living with two huge geeks, who both had a hard-on for history and religions and fucking _architecture_, of all things. They both liked reading and literature, they both were hopeless with girls, and they were both fun to rile up.

They both had an astounding amount of faith, especially considering all the shit they'd been through.

So yeah, they were basically a perfect couple waiting to happen. Except they were _definitely not going to happen_, not if Dean had anything to say about it. He opened his eyes slightly, glaring in Castiel's direction silently. Judging him.

Because _fuck_ no, he wasn't letting any goddamned angels near his baby brother. Not even this angel. Cas was great and all, but that didn't change the fact that angels were douchebags. Douchebags who would hurt Sam given any opportunity. And that meant none of them were allowed to date Sammy. Ever! Period!

Decision made and over-protective mode activated, he resumed cleaning the gun. If Cas so much as looked at Sammy wrong, he'd be on the other end of this thing. It wouldn't be very effective as far as actual physical harm went, but it would get the message across nicely.

Briefly it occurred to him that maybe he was being a bit too extreme. He immediately dismissed that idea. Dean began to hum, ignoring the put-upon sigh that Cas let out at the noise.

Fucking angels.

* * *

Dean did everything in his power to make sure Sam and Cas didn't interact over the next two and a half weeks. This was achieved in a variety of (in his personal opinion) rather ingenious ways-so small that neither Cas nor Sam noticed he was doing anything.

First, he made sure they were never in close proximity. Kinda hard, yeah, when you lived in motel rooms and a cramped car like they did, but he managed. He made sure they never sat next to each other. In diners he waited for either Cas or Sam to sit down first, then swooped in beside them so that the other was forced to sit across the table instead. If they were eating in, he made sure he was always in a chair between them. Even watching TV, he made sure to take up the middle seat of the couch so they had to sit on either side of him.

If one of them was sitting on a bed, he sat on the other side of it. Cas didn't actually sleep so he didn't have to worry about bed-sharing, but he did occasionally move the furniture around in a surreptitious manner, so that if Cas decided he wanted to watch them sleep all night like the weirdo he was, he'd do it in a chair on _Dean's _side of the room and far away from Sam's bed.

He inserted himself between them when they were travelling, too. Walking down the street he'd make sure they were on either side of him and not beside each other, where they could possibly walk too close together and bump into each other's shoulders and, God forbid, _hold hands_ like the girls they were.

He continued making them split up for research-one on the laptop and one at the library. If one of them dug something up, Dean acted as the go-between messenger so that they didn't actually talk to each other. Even on hunts, he made sure Sam stuck with him instead of Cas. If they ever split up (and _man_, Dean had had some moments where he felt like goddamn Fred from Scooby Doo, "let's split up, gang!"), he directed them into groups of either Dean-and-Sam or Dean-and-Cas. Never Sam-and-Cas. No. And in cases where it made more sense for all three of them to stick together, he took extra care (extra _extra _care) to watch out for Sammy so that if anything threatened him, Cas wouldn't have the chance to swoop in and save him like a knight in shining armor or some crap like that.

What? It was a legitimate concern. Sam was a fucking "romantic" or whatever. He'd be totally "swept off his feet" by that kind of thing. Ugh.

Dean realized that some people might say he was being ridiculous, and maybe they would be right. A little bit, anyway. "Some people" obviously didn't have adorable floppy-haired little brothers to look after. But in any case, it was using these "ridiculous" methods that he noticed something important: he didn't need to try and separate Sam and Cas, because _they did it themselves_.

He backed off for a few days to test this hypothesis, and the results were conclusive. Even given the opportunity to sit next to each other or walk together or talk to each other...they just didn't. They didn't sit together, they didn't talk, they barely acknowledged each other's existence beyond head nods and brief questions like, "Are you okay?" after a hunt. It was kind of bizarre, actually, how they'd set themselves up so that all their daily interactions focused on Dean, and only with each other by extension. Bizarre, but hey! Dean wasn't complaining since it meant there would be no angel-dating. His little brother was safe.

_Well that's a huge fucking relief_, Dean thought, sprawled in a chair with a hot cup of coffee. Sam and Castiel were on opposite sides of the room, reading two different books. _Castiel isn't interested in Sam at all, which means I don't even have to put any effort into keeping them away from couple territory. And Sam..._

Dean looked at Sam just in time to see his brother peek up from his book and sneak a glimpse at Cas. He was wearing one of _those _expressions, like Cas was something amazing, someone to _adore _or some romantic bull like that. Sam looked away quickly, and then _Cas _glanced up and started giving Sam this kind-of-inscrutable-but-also-considering-and-shy look for a few seconds before returning to his book.

Well shit.

Maybe he'd been looking at this wrong.

Once again, Dean Winchester settled back in his chair to think.

Okay, so. Apparently another thing these two shared was fucking _obliviousness_. Jesus Christ but this was ridiculous. Completely fucking ridiculous, but still: his brother and his angel were actually interested in each other and had no intention of doing anything about it. Which meant that _he _was going to have to do something about it.

"Oh come on," he groaned, slumping in his seat. (Tellingly, the other occupants of the room didn't even acknowledge that he was talking to himself.)

Why, _why _did he have to be the one to "do something"? He wasn't getting paid for a goddamned matchmaking service. These were two grown, adult men, perfectly capable of pursuing their own stupid relationship. What kind of idiots needed a third party to step in and make it work?

Well. Awkward little brothers and even more awkward angels, apparently.

This was stupid. He hated it. It was going to upset his perfect equilibrium. Yeah, _was going to_, because Dean, for some godforsaken reason, _was going to _help them get together. He was _not _going to ever say it out loud, though, because at least one person in their little group needed to not be a gigantic girl. Honestly, the things he did to keep his little-brother-slash-soul-mate and his angel-with-a-profound-bond happy. He deserved a freaking medal.

Decision (grudgingly) made, he began to plot.

* * *

First he tried just doing the opposite of the 'Keep Them Worlds Apart' plan. He thought maybe they would interact more if he just put them together, but no. That would have been too easy.

He made them sit next to each other. He made them research together. Hell, he even entrusted Cas with watching out for Sam on hunts (only sometimes, mind you, and only on easy hunts). But there was no reaction.

Sure, they started talking more. But only about the case or whatever they were researching. The closest they ever got to talking about anything personal was when they had this one discussion about what to get for dinner. Dean became incredibly frustrated watching them dance around each other, especially since-now that he was looking for it-it was obvious they were both pining. _Pining_. They would glance at each other and go all soft and fucking _blush _for God's sake until Dean just wanted to either strangle them or force them to make out already.

Okay, wow, that sounded really weird. Obviously the frustration was getting to him.

He needed a new game plan.

He needed...something to make the reaction happen. He needed a _catalyst_.

He needed some way to just put the idea in their heads that there was a possibility their stupid crushes were requited. If he could just get them thinking about it, maybe they'd actually make some progress instead of just assuming there was no way anything could ever happen.

But what?

"Aggghh," Dean groaned, flopping onto his bed. Castiel and Sam both looked at him so he repeated for their benefit, "AGGGHH!" The two shared a look and went back to ignoring him. Bastards. What with all the effort he was putting into their relationship. Why was it they could "share looks" but they couldn't even hold a five minute conversation with each other? Obviously he was dealing with morons here.

Still grumbling to himself, Dean picked up the newspaper off the pillow and began to peruse it for possible hunts.

* * *

"You said you have done this kind of thing before, correct?" Castiel asked.

Sam shrugged. "Impersonated teachers? Yeah, kinda. Dean and I worked a case a while ago where he pretended to be a gym teacher."

"And you?" Castiel seemed genuinely curious. Sam's face flushed slightly under his gaze.

"Uh, I pretended to be a janitor, actually." He looked away from Cas and caught Dean's eye instead.

Dean was staring at them, silently but intensely, trying to tap into his heretofore unknown psychic powers and will them into kissing. It wasn't working.

"I don't know if you've noticed this," Cas mentioned after a moment, "but your brother has been acting very strange recently."

"You know, I have noticed that."

Now they were both staring back at him. Scowling, Dean abandoned his attempt and steered the conversation back towards their current job.

"Whatever. I liked being a gym teacher, though. Put the fear of God in those kids. Or at least the fear of balls." He grinned at his own humor. For some reason, neither Cas nor Sam looked impressed.

"Enough that you wanted to do it again?" Cas questioned.

"It's not like I'm doing it out of the goodness of my heart or anything," Dean pointed out.

And he wasn't. The hunt involved a school where three of the teachers had simultaneously contracted severe illnesses, and who better to substitute than three hunters who investigated suspicious things like that? Well actually there were probably a ton of people better for the whole teaching gig, but still, there was no one better to make sure that any spooky shit got taken care of.

Their current theory was that there was a coven nearby whipping up curses, and that it possibly included at least two of the remaining teachers. So Dean got to play gym teacher again while they investigated. The dorks had gotten boring stuff like math and history. Actually Dean wasn't entirely sure which one was teaching which, but he was willing to bet that sitting in on a class taught by Castiel would be hilarious. It was already hilarious watching Sam try to talk to middle schoolers, who looked like midgets in comparison.

But there was always a downside, as was demonstrated by the fact that they were currently chaperoning at the school dance. Total waste of a Friday night if you asked Dean, but Sam had insisted that it might be a good chance to talk to the other teachers and maybe get some new information. Then Dean had made a joke about bringing something to spike the punch with, and then Sam had given him that bitchface again, and then they had somehow agreed to chaperone a stupid middle school dance.

And apparently he'd spent too long thinking to himself because Sam and Cas were moving off in a different direction, leaving him alone with his plastic cup of (unfortunately nonalcoholic) punch. "Stick together!" he called after them. He could practically hear them roll their eyes at the same time, even though he could only see their backs. They'd probably listen to him, though, so that was one less thing to worry about.

Dean leaned back against the wall by the door, watching the kids do something that only vaguely resembled dancing to the tune of something that only vaguely resembled music. He had about five minutes of peace, enabling him to finish his drink, and he was considering trying to talk to Miss Spears the (hot) art teacher on the pretense of finding out more about the sick teachers. Of course that was when the tiny blond girl attacked.

Okay so maybe attacked was kind of a strong word for it, but suddenly she was right in front of him and giving him this scarily wide smile.

"Hey Coach Lee!" she chirped.

"Uh, hey?" He wasn't sure what this girl's name was. Or why she was holding a clipboard.

"I was just wondering if you'd like to nominate anyone as the cutest couple of the night!"

Dean nearly gagged. He didn't remember middle school being this horrible.

"I don't know. Are teachers even allowed to nominate anyone?"

"Well, there's not a rule _against _it. And it's just a nomination, not an actual vote yet. The other students will do that later, like in half an hour. Me and the other girls on the dance committee came up with the idea."

"Is that so?" He barely suppressed a grimace.

"You can even nominate other teachers if you want," the girl continued. "Although they have to actually be here."

Whoa. Was it just him or did this girl have CATALYST stamped across her forehead in big neon letters? (Okay yeah, it was just him. But still.)

"You know, actually I _would _like to nominate a couple."

The girl's eyes lit up. "Really? Who?" She had her pencil poised and ready over her clipboard.

"I don't know if you've noticed," Dean lowered his voice conspiratorially, "because they've been trying to keep it on the uh, on the "down low," but Mr. Lifeson and Mr. Peart are actually dating."

The girl gasped, expression delighted. "No way!"

"Yeah. Way. Since they're teachers and all the students aren't technically supposed to know, but we are only substitutes and we won't be here for too much longer, so..." He winked. "Wouldn't hurt."

The girl grinned. "Wouldn't hurt!" she agreed. She turned to look for said substitutes in the crowd. "They do make a cute couple, don't they?" she murmured, kind of dreamily. Dean made a face while she wasn't paying attention to him.

"I'll definitely put them down!" she told him before running off. No doubt to tell all her little friends about how Mr. Lifeson and Mr. Peart, also known as Sam and Castiel, were such a cute couple.

Dean was brilliant. He cackled a bit to himself, ignoring the odd look he got from an unfortunate sixth grader in a too-large tux, and went to talk to the hot art teacher.

An hour later his plan came to fruition when the tiny blonde girl went up on stage and the "music" stopped so she could make an announcement.

Dean grinned and sidled closer to Sam and Cas. He wanted to see this.

"The results are in for the cutest couple of the night!" the girl, who was apparently named Lydia, announced. "You all had the chance to vote from five nominated couples, and the top two will be receiving prizes from the student board!"

There was some half-hearted clapping from the faculty members present; the students, on the other hand, were giggling and whispering to each other.

"Okay, so our runners up are..." Lydia paused for effect. "Roxy and Alex!"

There was cheering as a shy-looking ginger couple went up on stage to accept something that appeared to be a fruit basket and maybe gift cards to some restaurant. They waved and smiled, murmured 'thank-you's into the mic, and quickly escaped the spotlight.

"And, our winners tonight-with a very large percentage of the vote-are..." There was another pause here. Dean _knew _who it was going to be. There was no other reason for the students to look so excited about something this stupid. "Mr. Lifeson and Mr. Peart!"

Dean heard Sam choke on nothing. He had to clap a hand over his mouth to keep himself from laughing.

"Come on up guys!"

Sam and Cas continued to just stand there, dumbfounded, until the students pressed in and started herding them up towards the stage.

They were even more awkward than the ginger couple when they got up there. Sam was doing his embarrassed hunch and Cas looked like he was about ready to run.

"Um, we're not-" Sam started to protest, but Lydia cut him off.

"We know it's supposed to be a secret, but, well...we _all _could tell you guys were a couple."

Sam opened his mouth but nothing came out.

"And you're a very cute couple! Which is why you're getting this," here she shoved another fruit basket and more gift cards into Sam's arms, "and _this_." Now a bouquet of red roses was handed to Castiel. His face went as red as the flowers as he took them. "Let's give our substitutes a big hand, everyone!"

The students clapped and cheered, gleeful. Dean couldn't stop himself anymore. He began to laugh. Of course that was when Sam looked out into the audience and spotted him.

Grabbing Cas's arm, Sam gave a quick, "Um, thanks," and fled the stage. Then he led them over to Dean, who was still giggling helplessly.

"What the hell, Dean? Did you put our names on that list?"

Dean just laughed harder.

"We're supposed to be inconspicuous, remember? And Cas and I aren't actually..." Sam trailed off, his own face going red. Cas still hadn't said anything, but Dean caught him glancing between the flowers and Sam.

"It was a harmless joke," Dean said placatingly. "And c'mon, you guys could totally be a couple." _Hint hint_.

Sam and Cas looked at each other, jumped slightly when they caught each other's eyes, and looked away again blushing.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom," Sam muttered, practically throwing the basket to Dean. "Be right back."

Dean and Cas watched him go.

Finally Cas decided to speak up. "Do you really think we could be...?"

Dean shrugged with forced nonchalance. "Sure. Why not?"

"Well, I was under the impression that you would not approve," Cas said carefully. "And besides that, I do not believe Sam has any such feelings for me."

Dean chose his words cautiously, not wanting to scare Cas off. "I wouldn't mind. You're my best friend, and I know I can trust you to take care of my brother. _Right_?"

Cas nodded vigorously.

"Okay, good. And I think Sam has a crush on you or somethin'. Dunno how you haven't noticed."

"Really?" asked Cas hopefully.

"Yeah. So, do _you _have feelings for _him_?"

Cas started to look like a cornered animal again. "I believe I am in need of a drink," he said. "I am now going to go get one."

"Okay. You want me to hold that for you?"

Cas shook his head, holding the bouquet closer, almost protectively. "I will keep them, thank you."

Dean watched him head towards the refreshments table, amused despite himself. It was almost worth having to discuss Castiel's feelings.

_Progress!_

* * *

Unfortunately, he was going to have to have a talk with Sam next.

Cas seemed to have taken Dean's word for it that Sam was interested and he kept making small, awkward gestures to express his own interest, but Sam still wasn't with the program. Whenever Cas did something (which ranged from small offerings of flowers or books or food to touching his shoulder when they talked to-of course-staring at him), Sam would get flustered and make an excuse to leave the room for a while. Run away, in other words.

Which left Dean with a woeful-looking Cas. And then Cas would look at him accusingly and Dean would shrug and tell him to keep trying. But there was only so many rejections Cas could take, and by extension that Dean could take. Because it was seriously pitiful.

"Look," he said finally, after Sam had left to go pick up some take out. "He _does _like you. He just doesn't realize you like him. I know," he continued when Cas opened his mouth to protest," I know, you're trying to show him. But Sam, he doesn't believe it's even _possible _that you like him."

Cas frowned. "What does that mean?"

Dean grimaced, realizing this was quickly going to turn into another discussion about feelings. "Well. Sam doesn't think really highly of himself. He probably thinks it isn't possible for someone like you to actually want him. That he isn't good enough."

"Someone like me?" Cas's head tilted in confusion. "Wait." It seemed to dawn on him. "You mean he thinks he is tainted. And I am an angel. Dean, that is ridiculous. Sam is not tainted. He is _good_."

"_I _know that. He doesn't."

Castiel's hands fluttered in a frustrated way. "Well then, what can I do to persuade him otherwise?"

"You could try just talking to him," Dean suggested.

"Do you think he would listen to me?"

Dean stopped for a moment, considering. "Probably not," he sighed finally. "Look, I'll talk to him first, okay? You just keep doing what you've been doing. If it goes well then maybe he'll stop being an idiot and _then _you can talk to him about how wonderful he is or whatever."

Cas actually smiled. "Thank you, Dean."

The gratitude surprised him. Dean waved it off. "Sure, but just for the record you are both huge girls."

So yeah, a talk with Sam. Bound to be fun.

* * *

Dean spent a week trying to think of a good way to approach his little brother. He didn't know how this conversation would go. On the one hand, Sam might be inclined to listen to him since it was so rare for Dean to instigate a girl-talk, but on the other hand, Sam had some _serious _self-esteem issues.

As it turned out, Sam came to him before he could think of anything. They were in a motel room in South Carolina, and Cas was outside feeding the pigeons which hung out in the parking lot. It was hot and humid, and naturally the AC wasn't working. They'd opened the window hoping to alleviate the heat, but there wasn't a breeze. And it was only nine in the morning. No doubt by noon it would be sweltering.

"Hey, Dean?"

Dean glanced up from the paper and mumbled, "Yeah?" around a mouthful of bagel.

"I uh, kinda wanted to ask you about something."

Dean frowned. He hadn't expected Sam to bring it up. But hey, maybe this was a good sign. "Okay. What about?"

"It's about Cas, actually. You remember that thing at the middle school in Rhode Island?"

"Man, are you still upset about that? Cas seemed fine with it. Lighten up."

Sam gave him a pained look. "I'm not _upset_, it's just that, I kinda, I-"

"You have a big ol' crush on Cas?" Dean cut in, because listening to Sam try to stutter his way through it was just embarrassing.

Sam's face went red and his mouth went into a thin line, but after a moment he sighed and admitted, "Yeah. I do."

"Cool. So why are you wasting time talking to me about it? Just ask him out already."

"What, and be shot down in flames?" Sam scoffed. "No, I just wanted to ask you about how to make it go away."

Dean stared at him, incredulous. "Make it go away? Are you serious?"

But he was. Sam was serious.

"Sam, you _know _that's not how it works."

"Dean," his brother pleaded, "I can't deal with this anymore. It's only getting worse and I just-_I can't_."

"Can't what? Accept that you have feelings for the guy? And have you even thought about _his _feelings?"

Sam snorted. "What feelings?"

"He obviously likes you back or whatever."

"Dean, that's not funny."

"I wasn't joking!" Dean was amazed at just how dense Sam was being. "Come on, you've got to have noticed all those things Cas has been doing lately. He's trying to get your attention."

"And he is!" Sam exploded. "I've been noticing all those things, and it just makes it worse! I need him to stop it!" He sighed and dropped his head into his hands.

Dean looked away, uncomfortable and unsure how to proceed. And of course he looked towards the window, the goddamned _open _window, and who else should he see there but Castiel. It didn't take a genius to figure out that Cas had only heard the last part of that conversation. His expression was hurt, probably from a combination of overhearing Sam and thinking that Dean had been lying to him about Sam. Fuck. This was just his stupid fucking luck.

Cas quickly turned away and disappeared from sight. Dean wanted to yell after him to wait, to stop , and did he _really _think that Dean would do something like that to him? That Dean would joke about that, lead him on and then laugh when it blew up in his face? Jesus Christ but this was messed up.

"I know you're supposed to be the one with the brains in this family, dude, but _damn _you are stupid sometimes." He'd lost his appetite, so he tossed the rest of his bagel down onto the table. "There's only so much I can _do_, Sammy."

Sam finally looked up again. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing!" Dean threw up his hands. "If you don't really want him, then stop bothering me about it! Just keep doing what you're doing; I'm sure it'll work out fucking _great_." He got up. "I'm going out."

"Out where?"

Dean didn't answer, merely slammed the door behind him. Cas was nowhere to be seen, so he got into the Impala and just sat there.

Why had he ever decided to mess with this in the first place? He'd had his equilibrium, and then went and screwed it up. So what if his two idiots just lived out the rest of their lives pining and unhappy? Why did he have to give a damn?

Dean's shoulders slumped and he leaned forward to rest his forehead on the steering wheel. Fuck. He loved these guys, even if they were idiots. He just wanted them to be happy. So why was it the only thing standing in the way of that was themselves?

Well. Dean had known from the start that he was going to have to be the one to get them together. And maybe he was an idiot, too, because he was going to keep trying until they were an obnoxiously cute and happy couple and he could make fun of them and pretend to be grossed out while they held hands and cuddled or whatever.

He just needed a better plan. Something _foolproof_.

He supposed locking them in a closet together and refusing to let them out until they talked was out of the question.

Actually...

Okay, no. Out of the question.

* * *

Castiel stopped talking. To either of them.

He'd nod and occasionally answer questions with short sentences, but that was it. He kept finding ways to avoid being alone with Dean, so he never got the chance to try and explain himself. Sam on the other hand had no idea why he was being given the cold shoulder, so he just seemed to take it as a sign he'd been right and Cas hated him or something. He became withdrawn and sullen.

It was incredibly frustrating.

Dean still hadn't come up with a better plan, but he knew he needed to or else he would just murder the both of them.

They're all sitting in another motel room, Washington this time, and they were about as far away from each other as three people could get in such a small space. Dean was at the table with the paper, Sam was on the far bed with a book, and Cas was in a chair by the window, looking out at the highway. The atmosphere was tense, to say the least, and it was way too fucking quiet. And it had been a whole week and a half already.

Dean shifted in his seat. He was...he was _fucking sick of this_.

He slammed the paper down on the table. The other occupants of the room jumped at the sound and stared at him.

"You know," Dean began with false cheer. "I really hate romantic comedies."

The other two continued to gape at him.

"I hate 'em, but I'll admit I've seen a couple. Sometimes it's the only thing on TV, you know? Anyway, it's always the same thing. Two people like each other, blah de blah whatever, but then some huge, stupid misunderstanding pops up and then they spend a ridiculous amount of time feeling sad and sorry for themselves until something corny and cliché happens that brings them back together and shows them they really do love each other or some shit like that. I also hate talking about people's feelings, but I can't help but think when I see a rom-com that the whole thing could have been avoided and they could have gotten to the happy ending part a hell of a lot faster if they'd just had the sense to sit down and _talk it out_. So you know what? We're going to fucking talk it out.

"Seriously, I am _done _with this. You have both come to me and talked to me about your stupid romantic troubles and I know they're supposed to be private conversations but that is just too bad because I'm about to be super blunt so we can fucking end this already. You," he pointed at Sam. "Cas told me he actually wanted to be a couple back at that stupid middle school dance. I told him to go for it, and _that's _why he was doing all those little things, to like, court you or whatever. It wasn't just being friendly or whatever your deluded self interpreted them as."

"Dean!" Cas started to protest.

"Shut up, Cas. Look, I don't know exactly what you overheard that day, but Sam was telling me that he wanted you to stop _because he likes you and you were making it worse_. He didn't want to like you any more than he already did because, as we have already discussed, he has a shitty sense of self-worth and thought you'd never actually want him."

Sam at least had the decency to look guilty.

Dean stood up abruptly, uncaring that the chair he'd been sitting in toppled over with a clatter. "You both want each other. Okay? Do you get it now? _I _am going to go wait outside. _You _are going to stay in here and fucking _talk _and when you come out _you had better _be holding hands or something or I swear to God-!"

Without waiting to see their reactions, Dean left.

He went and sat in the car again. It helped him calm down.

It took half an hour, but finally the door opened and Sam and Cas stepped outside. They were holding hands.

Dean exhaled, then chuckled quietly. "I didn't mean that literally. Morons."

He opened the car door and got out, smiling.

* * *

Genius matchmaking scientist that he was, Dean Winchester had managed to achieve a new equilibrium in his own daily life. An equilibrium with him, his brother, and his angel. Dean was a handsome ladies' man and the other two were a cute but terribly awkward gay couple, but they stabilized when they came together. It was a pretty nice setup, if he did say so himself.

And everyone was happy. His two idiots were just ecstatic to actually be a couple now, and Dean was happy because they were happy.

They both smiled a lot. Cas had never really smiled much in the first place, so it was a big change. Sam got this expression on his face every time Castiel looked at him, as though each time were a blessing. He smiled a lot more, too. In fact, Dean couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Sam so smiley.

So yeah, it was nice. Well, seeing them kiss and hold hands and cuddle (and he had been right, they were _cuddlers_) was just weird, but not all that bad because really it was just a visual reminder that they were happy.

The weirdest part, though, was that every once in a while they'd both smile at _him_. Maybe it was another couple thing. Whatever.

"Dude, are you coming or not?" Sam demanded, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"What? On your date? Why the hell would I come with you on your date?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "We already went on a date today. I told you Cas and I were going to the library, remember?"

"That was a _date_? At the library? _Seriously_?"

Sam whacked him on the shoulder. "Some people have a sense of class, Dean. Now it's time to get dinner. There's a diner down the road. Pretty sure there's pie."

"There is," Cas confirmed from over by the door. "I saw a sign on the way back from the library. Apparently they have won awards for their apple pie."

"Well then, count me in!" Dean stood and stretched, grinning. "The library, though? Really? Tell me you at least made out behind a bookshelf or something."

"We will tell you no such thing," Cas answered.

Dean sighed dramatically. "Cas, you're never going to get him naked if you won't even make out in the library."

Sam shoved him towards the door. "Okay, time to go before this conversation gets any weirder."

Dean laughed. "Okay, okay. Let's go."

* * *

"Sam?"

"Yeah?" Looking away from where Dean was shamelessly flirting with the waitress at the counter, Sam turned to see Cas stirring his Coke with a straw.

"Do you know what a catalyst is?"

"Uh, like in chemistry?"

Cas nodded. "It is defined as a substance that causes or accelerates a chemical reaction, but remains unchanged."

"Sounds familiar, but it's been a while since I've been in a chem class."

"The term can also be used outside of a scientific context, to describe a person that causes an event or a change."

Sam remained quiet while he absorbed that. "Yeah," he agreed finally. "Dean is pretty great. Don't tell him I said that, though."

Cas smirked. "Of course not."

Sam scooted closer so he could nudge the angel with his elbow. Cas abandoned stirring his drink and moved closer as well. Soon they were sitting with their sides pressed together, looking at each other. Cas reached up and cupped Sam's face.

"You are wonderful," he said. "Dean told me to tell you that."

Sam huffed a laugh. "So was that Dean saying I'm wonderful and passing the message on through you, or-?"

Cas cut him off with a kiss. "Don't be a smartass," he said when he pulled away.

Sam full-out laughed at that. "Love you," he murmured once it had subsided.

Cas smiled up at him, and it was a giddy, bright smile that Sam had never expected to get to see. "I love you, as well."

At the counter, Dean smiled, too.


End file.
